


Fairy Tale Ending

by elletromil



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, Werewolves, werewolf!merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:58:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: If it had been anyone else, if he had been stranded in the woods with, let’s say, Lancelot instead, he would have believed the words to be a very ill-timed joke.But this was Merlin, Merlin whom he trusts with his life.And Merlin's a werewolf.





	

It isn’t the first time a mission has gone tits up, but it’s the first time Percival cannot see a way out of it.

Lost in a forest in the middle of nowhere, hunted by a small army of trained ex-military, without any weapons of his own and having lost communication with HQ… His only hope would be that Merlin will always find a way to bring his agents back home, but unfortunately this time, Merlin is right there with him.

Well, he _had been_ right there with him, until the sun had started setting and Merlin had stopped dead in his tracks, a horrified expression on his face as his eyes caught sight of the clear skies though the leaves of the trees.

That’s when he had started talking about splitting up for the first time in days and it had taken him everything to make Merlin tell him the reason behind his sudden change of heart.

If it had been anyone else, if he had been stranded in the woods with, let’s say, Lancelot instead, he would have believed the words to be a very ill-timed joke.

But this was Merlin, Merlin whom he trusts with his life and his heart, even if his friend wasn’t aware of the latter.

That, and he could only see honesty and self-loathing in the dark eyes as Merlin held his gaze without flinching as he confided in Percival something he had never told anyone before, not even his oldest friend Harry Hart.

Merlin’s a werewolf.

And to think it was supposed to be an easy assignment.

He should have known as soon as he heard those two words put together that he would end up in such an impossible situation, where he’ll either get shot to death or devoured by a friend.

Because as crazy as it had sounded, there is no remaining doubts in his mind that Merlin is truly what he said he was after he heard the blood-curdling howls echoing in the woods as the full moon rose in the sky.

But the primordial horror the howls woke up in him is nothing compared to the disgusted fear cause by the terrified screams and ensuing crunching sounds from the men that had been tracking them down.

He would attempt to run, but he is near past the point of exhaustion and the moon is so bright tonight that there is no convenient shadows for him to hide in.

Not that he thinks it would help him in any way against such a creature, not when he can already feel something creeping up on him.

His only move is to walk backward until he hits the trunk of a tree, because he simply refuses to meet death in any other way than face to face.

It doesn’t take long before his eyes tracks movements and his breath catches in his throat at his first look of the werewolf.

His fur is black, his teeth sharp and dripping with blood. He’s much bigger than a normal wolf, with some features that are almost human and he should look ridiculous or twisted, but the impression Percival is left with is one of grace that is inherent to all predators.

A memory comes unbidden as he stares in the werewolf dark eyes, Merlin’s eyes, eyes he would recognize anywhere. A childhood memory of his Nana telling him stories of horrible creatures and cursed humans, all poor souls, lost souls forsaken by friends and family, left with a craving for love in their heart. He remembers her telling him that there were always other paths than the one of violence, that instead of silver bullets for werewolves, calling out their names to remind them of who they truly were could be all that was needed.

It is silly to even be considering it, especially since Percival has never believed in fairy tales, but he’s got nothing left to lose.

He might never have known Merlin’s real name, but somehow, he has the utmost conviction that it wouldn’t work anyway. It’s been years, more than a decade even, since he’s been called anything but Merlin by those he cares for and that cares for him in return. For all intents and purposes, _that_ ’s his true name if there ever was one.

His voice is barely above a whisper, but it rings clear in the silence of the forest.

“Merlin.”

He stops, barely a foot away from him, hands cocking to the side curiously, ears perked up and Percival repeats the name.

When Merlin falls on the ground and starts convulsing, nothing could have stopped him from kneeling at his sides and wrap his arms around the shivering form, not even the risk of getting his throat ripped to shreds like in the movies.

Soon, he’s no longer holding an over-sized wolf anymore, but his friend, the man he’s fallen in love with time and time again since he first met him.

Merlin’s naked with blood all over his face and a wild look in his eyes, but his hands grip onto Percival’s lapels with desperation.

“Richard? What- What happened?”

He doesn’t quite know himself, so his only answer is to tighten his hold around him and to press his lips on his forehead.

“It’s okay Merlin, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

They’re far from being out of the woods yet, quite literally in their case, but for the first time since that whole mess started, he’s actually optimistic about their chances.

Fairy tales are supposed to end with a happily ever after, aren’t they?


End file.
